


heed no hoary willow

by Caracalliope



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Drabble Sequence, Erotic Horror, Forests, Gen, Horror, Magic, Old Forest (Tolkien)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caracalliope/pseuds/Caracalliope
Summary: Characters Wander Into The Extra Kinky Part Of The Magical Forest +  write this fic as a type of Dadaist commentary on modern life





	1. Prompto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catsinouterspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace/gifts).

> This was going to be sexy forestfucking! It ended up as something quite different, but I had a lot of fun with it. Hope it works for you!

Whatever anyone says, Prompto is _not_ the outdoorsy one. Sure, he likes animals and beautiful landscapes, but he never really wanted to, you know, commune with nature.

Except right now, there's a willow tree that seems to be calling his name. Not literally! That sure would be weird, haha. It just looks so welcoming. Soothing, like a phone background. There's even a river next to it. Prompto reaches for his camera, then changes his mind. This place doesn’t feel like it wants to be documented.

“How about a nap, guys?”

He should have been more surprised when they said yes.


	2. Ignis

The quaint charm of the forest is making Ignis want to set the trees on fire. He takes a stroll instead.

For once, his friends can unpack without him. He’s of no use until the sleepiness and corresponding rage passes. There’s something itching under his skin, and he hates the soothing scent of the forest flowers.

Why can’t he relax for once? Close his eyes, enjoy the idyll? Has the war ruined rest for him, or is his own mind to blame?

He returns to camp, ready to admit defeat and sleep. He finds Noct lying facedown in the river.


	3. Noct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the risk of (consensual-but-magically-forced) drowning.

Who knew drowning could be sexy?

Apart from his pedigree, Noct considers himself to be a pretty normal guy. He’s afraid of normal things, like dying. But down here, that isn't worth worrying about. The weight is off his shoulders - the water's got him. It's so close, around and inside him, intimate like a boyfriend, steady like a bodyguard.

He could stay here for a while, he thinks, eyes closing and mouth wide open.

Then a strong hand yanks him up by the hair.

"Noct, you were asleep."

"Nah, wasn't," he says, and then his lungs start grasping for air.


	4. Ignis

For a fleeting, dazed moment, Ignis wants to gloat. He _knew_ that the concept of resting was untrustworthy. He brushes Noct's wet hair out of his face.

"Can you believe I was going to just lie there?" Noct says.

"Well," Ignis points out.

"Okay, first, fuck you, I'm not _that_ lazy. Usually. And second, I'm good at rivers. This one was, I don't know. There's no fish down there. It's too empty and, and perfect."

Ignis feels a spark of curiosity, and extinguishes it ruthlessly. He has Noct to focus on, and - oh.

"Um. Specs? Where are Prompto and Gladio?"


	5. Prompto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dubiously consensual, implied tree-fucking impulses.

So Prompto's all tangled up in roots and he can't exactly move, and, the thing is, the roots just don't stop.

He knows about tentacles and stuff? But he never thought it could feel all homey like this. There's a root covering his mouth, and another snaking up his legs. They move slowly, but Prompto's comfortable here. Underground? Wherever he is, the roots make him feel like he belongs. He parts his knees a little, in case the roots are into that. Into getting all the way into him?

It's a bad joke he should share, but there's nobody here.


	6. Gladio

Even with its hollow structure, the oak is resilient and worthy of respect. Gladio doesn't _love_ old things, but sometimes, just for a second, the sentimentality of it gets to him. This tree's been through storms and wars and maybe even forest fires. There will never be another one like it.

He stands inside the willow, and there's enough space for him here. He presses his palms to the trunk and pushes. It's unyielding, and he laughs, proud. Hollow doesn't mean rotting.

Except, Gladio can't remember how he got here. He jerks awake fully when the trunk starts pushing back.


	7. Prompto

Prompto's future king is digging after him, barehanded, and Prompto wants to hide his face and sink through the floor in shame. Except, he's suddenly remembering why that's a shitty idea.

"You're still breathing, right?" Noct asks. "I will be so pissed with you if you're not. I mean, I've been there, but come on, dude."

Prompto responds with a loud, muffled sound. The roots didn't choke him, they just wanted him to chill with them. And decompose.

Noct keeps digging, and Prompto holds on to the memory of his face. This place is nice, but it's not his home.


	8. Gladio & Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a sentient, possessive enclosed space.

"Gladio?"

"Ignis! I thought none of you would hear me."

"This forest is evil, magical, and what one might call clingy."

"Yeah, figured that out. I knew we couldn't just relax here, what the fuck were we thinking?"

"It's always a trap. Speaking of which, how well can you breathe in there?"

"Air supply's fine. It just starts _squeezing_ whenever I try to leave."

"Ah. And have you considered a small fire?"

"Tried it. Not gonna try it again."

"Hm."

"It also doesn't like sharp things."

"How does it feel about cars?"

"Do me a favor? Try anything else first."


	9. Ignis

Running through the forest, screaming for help, isn't Ignis's preferred solution to complex situations. But Gladio's getting crushed, and Ignis doesn't see how Noct could hack Prompto free without evoking the same defensive mechanism.

"Is there anyone here? Please?"

Noct doesn't stop digging but adds his voice to the echos of Ignis's yells.

A man appears, silently. He is wearing bright colors, with scarves and purple hair. In all ways, his looks match the forest.

"Yes, I am always here, alas," he says. "Waiting for visitors and the cold starlight. May I offer you help? For a very small fee."


End file.
